Insane
by Diedre D'Nai
Summary: She was insane, he was a Noble knight. This was wrong, so very wrong. Lute/Kyle one-sided Artur/Lute.
1. Chapter 1

This wasn't right. This was insane. SHE was insane. This isn't how people fell in love. Nothing about this was right.

Kyle was lost. He had always been a dutiful knight. Straightforward, his conduct almost more proper than Seth's. He was a "stick-in-the-mud" (as Forde put it) and he was fairly proud of that fact. He was also in love for the first time. With entirely the wrong woman.

_She _was a nut. Completely and totally off-her-rocker. Her eyes had an intensity that burned through whatever had her attention at that moment. She watched and made notes on everything around her. Always stuck in a book or fixated on a small bug or flower, watching it, studying it.

The knight sighed to himself. Nothing about this was right. At first, he had ignored the feelings growing inside him. but they were there. Little hints of jealousy at the attention she paid Artur, the monk. Slight traces of panic while she fought. The way she left him wordless (not in the same way she left everyone wordless), shortness of breath at her presence, a lingering desire to know exactly what she thought of him. He had done his best to ignore them. This was not how the captain of the royal guard fell in love. He, Sir Kyle of Renais, was not, NOT in love with Lute, the psychotic scholar mage. In this light, he did his best to ignore the longing in his heart.

He ignored them. Until the dreams. He stopped ignoring them when he started dreaming about her. The first dream had been innocent enough, innocent and so very life-like.

_ He was sitting, cleaning his armor in the barracks when she walked in, nose in a book. _

_"Hello Lute." He said with a smile. Lute looked up at him, a smile on her face and her intense eyes fixed on his own. _

_"Sir Kyle." She replied, using her index finger as a bookmark as she walked over to him. "Polishing your armor?" she asked, her voice as light and inquisitive as ever. _

_"Yes." He moved the breastplate to allow her room to sit down. She did so, leaning her back against his arm as she finished reading. He listened to her hum to herself, slightly off-key and muttering random phrases in other languages. The sun shone through a window. It warmed the room, inducing a calm, sleepy effect, such that Kyle set his armor aside and wrapped and arm around the mage. She giggled a little, looked up from her book, and kissed him._

That was when Kyle woke up. He's lips still tingling from dream-Lute's kiss. After nearly a month of dreams like that. Kyle had given up denying it. He even admitted his feelings to Forde as the man painted

"Lute? Seriously?" The blonde looked up from his brush, "Is the great and constantly serious Kyle pulling my leg?"

"No." Kyle said, "I really seem to have developed feeling for her." Forde's response was to double over in laughter.

Not wishing to be a hypocrite, (he and Forde had spent almost everyday since the end of the war dropping "little" hints at the General that he should just ask the Princess to marry him already) Kyle had decided that the best course of action was to tell Lute how he felt. But she was never alone. Every where she went, there was that damnable Artur.

She watched him. She was always watching the monk, and Artur was clearly in love with her. The red head smiled at her, brought her little flowers and Kyle had heard him pray to the Gods for Lute's well-being more than he prayed for anything else. Lute, was oblivious. She was forever writing in that little book of hers. She'd glance up at Artur, say something, the monk would blush and she'd scribble down another note. Kyle thought he'd go mad with jealousy if he didn't get to talk to her alone for five minutes.

His schedule went nuts. Morning: Wake up, wake Forde up. Look for Lute. Find Lute in the dinning hall eating, with Artur. Attempt conversation, fail. Go wake Forde up. Eat breakfast. Wake Forde up. Make Forde eat breakfast, clean armor. Wake Forde up.

Afternoon: Find Lute in Library, walk up to her. Find that Lute is intently watching Artur pray. Wait for Artur to finish. Listen to them talk. Wonder if Lute is in love with him. Wake Forde up. Train new recruits. Wake Forde up. Chess with Ephraim. Wake Forde up. Drop hint at Seth about Princess Eirika. Wake Forde up. Find Lute. Ask Lute if she would eat lunch with me. Recieve nod. Be overjoyed. Hopes crushed to find Artur sitting with us.

Evening: Look for Lute. Find Lute. With Artur. Eat Dinner, watching Lute from Afar. Speak with Ephraim about courtly things. Drop more hints at Seth. Return to barracks. Tell Forde to go to sleep. Dream about Lute.

_"Sir Kyle?" dream-Lute asked. Stepping into the barracks. They were alone, the setting sun sparkled through the window. _

_"Yes Lute?" dream-Kyle asked. She smiled at him, those intense eyes focused on him, brighter than the sun. Her blue cloak danced around her legs as she walked over to him. _

_"I've been studying the life-cycles of butterflies lately and...I noticed something sad." _

_"What's that?" He asked, pulling her into his arms. She was warm and snuggled in against his chest._

_"They live for such a short period of time that, a butterfly will never find real companionship. I don't believe butterflies think about that sort of thing. But..." she paused and bit her lip in thought, "for some reason, it made me think of you."_

_"Did it?" He asked, a little surprised. _

_"Yes. See...I'm a mage of supreme brilliance. But, if you were to die in battle...there's nothing I could do to bring you back." She squeezed him tighter before breaking apart and looking up at him, "You'd be like a butterfly. Your life cut short before you found real companionship." She smiled softly, that mad look that drove him nuts. "I'm sorry. Its not like me to be sentimental." He laughed softly, putting his right hand on her cheek. She covered it with hers, nuzzling into his palm._

_"I've found companionship, Lute," dream-Kyle reassured her, pressing his lips to her forehead, "In a mage of superior brilliance and skill." _

Again, he woke up as she lifted her lips to his. This had to stop. He couldn't take it anymore. Something had to give here. Either he'd get her alone and talk with her or else he'd talk to her in front of Artur. Modesty be damned. His thoughts were getting more and more un-knightly as he watched her study and interact. The way her dress fit, the gentle slope of her shoulders... It had to stop before his dreams got any more detailed.


	2. A different Perspective

Night was falling in Renais. Forde was wandering back from a nap when he noticed the little book. It was labeled, quite clearly, "Kyle". Moderately confused, Forde picked up the book and flipped it open, only to discover what appeared to be field notes in Lute's handwriting.

**Taken From Lute's Field Notes **

_Saw the subject again today. Still unable to determine what is causing this feeling in my gut. May be allergic to him. I believe that is the only explanation for the shortness of breath I feel around him. Have kept Artur around as a safe measure to be sure my notes are kept orderly. He's very good at that sort of thing. Kyle is a strange man. He appears to have quite a lot on his mind and a tendency to turn red around me. I wonder if I should leave suntan lotion out for him. _

_~*~*~_

_Was asked to lunch by Kyle. His voice is strangely pleasant. Agreed, but had Artur accompany me. I believe this allergy may be worse than originally anticipated, throughout the meal I felt light-headed and could feel my knees getting weak. Furthermore, Artur commented on the redness of my face as we left, mayhaps I have hives? Later: No hives, I am throughly bewildered. _

_~*~*~_

_Sir Kyle is a witch. I have solved the puzzle. That's the only way he could have walked into my dreams. Strangely, I do not find his company unpleasant as is common with allergies. Asked Artur about it, he replied merely with a disappointed sigh. Asked Vanessa about it, was laughed at. I watched him practice today. His brow was covered in sweat. Interesting thoughts entered my mind. I believe I may have a fever. Later: Checked with Natasha. No fever, and she says that I'm not allergic to Kyle. She must be mistaken. _

_~*~*~_

_Dreamt about Kyle again. It was...pleasant, and very much like a number of fairy stories I have read in the archives here. This allergy appears to be going to my head. Unlike a number of other subjects I have studied (Artur), Kyle is very easy to find. I'm glad of this. Though I sometimes catch him looking at me. When this happens, I feel...light...happy. I'm a little uneasy around him, I wonder if he knows about this journal, I wonder if it makes him as uneasy as it makes Artur. I have been told before that people do not like to be studied but I can't help it. I want to know everything about Sir Kyle. _

Forde, having read this far, shut the book and cracked up with laughter. Ephraim, who happened to be passing by, stopped to question him.

"What are you laughing at, Forde?" The young king asked, peering with interest at the book in his friend's grasp.

"You know how Kyle's been pining over Lute?" said Forde, in between giggles.

"I noticed the pining. But Lute? Seriously?" Ephraim chuckled, "There's a surprise. I thought is was Syrene, you know the Frelian pegasus knight." The king smiled, "So what's the book?" Forde handed it to the king.

"Lute's "Field Notes", on Kyle." Ephraim glanced through the book and returned Forde a mischevious smile.

"You know what to do, my favorite meddler." He shook the cavalier's hand, giving him a quick wink.

"Yes Sire!" Forde said, saluting and laughing as he hurried towards the barracks. Ephraim watched him leave with a distinct note of satisfaction.

"Now...if only Seth will get off his rear and ask Eirika." The king sighed, looked over to where the two in question were walking, eyes firmly ahead of them.


	3. End Game

Forde, ever the loyal knight, friend, and meddler in the ways of romance, placed the book on Kyle's bedstand. He looked at the sleeping green-haired man and chuckled softly to himself before wandering back outside. Forde, for all that he slept constantly (Natasha, Moulder and one or two other healers called him a "Narcoleptic", Kyle and Vanessa simply labeled it "Lazy") was a little bit of an insomniac. Due to his sleepless nature, it was Forde who had the solitary pleasure of laughing silently as he spied Lute.

"I'm sure I dropped it just over there." Lute said angrily to Artur. The monk yawned,

"Lute, it's nearly midnight..." he protested sleepily. "Let's just look for it in the morning."

"What if... What if Kyle or someone else finds it?" she asked. Forde chuckled to himself.

"Oh yeah, your "allergy" to Sir Kyle." Artur said, trying very hard not to sound overly disappointed. "Lute...what if he's "allergic" to you too?" Forde nearly gave up his hiding place laughing so hard. Lute paused to consider this possibilty.

"I...think I would like that..." she said, her voice uncharacteristically shy. Artur gave her a sad smile.

"I'm going to go to bed." He said, wandering back to the castle. She watched him leave and turned.

"That leaves only the barracks." She said, and Forde thought he watched her wring her hands in near nervous behavior. This was rich. This was so very very rich.

Kyle, opened his eyes as someone stepped on a floorboard he had purposefully left loose.

"That you Forde?" He called, not bothering to sit up, "Go to sleep."

"I'm not Forde." Lute's voice rang clear and mildly defiant through the room. Kyle, sat bolt upright and fumbled over for his tunic.

"Lady Lute!" He said, doing his best to sound formal, distant and not at all like a quivering school-child. Needless to say, he failed. Lute walked over to him, her purple cloak and nightgown drifted across her ankles and her intense eyes focused on his own.

"Sir Kyle...I'm looking for a book I may have..." her eyes landed on the cover. "When did you get this?" she asked abruptly. Kyle shook his head.

"I didn't." She seemed to accept this as a decent response and turned to leave when Kyle caught her by the wrist. She blushed and turned to face him.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm not sure. First, is this a dream?"

"No. Why?" She asked, looking at him with those quzzical eyes that made his heart pound and his knees weak.

"Because, my dreams generally end differently."

"How do they end?" Kyle blushed. Lute smiled.

"I wonder if Artur is right." Kyle gave her a questioning look. She continued, "I wonder if you're allergic to me as well."

She was insane. Completely and totally off her rocker. But as he stood in the dark barracks kissing her, Kyle didn't give half-a-fig to it. This was wrong, totally improper. Knights did not kiss strange mages before they were engaged. He'd never hear the end of this from Forde or his inner-stick-in-the-mud.

It was insane, completly and totally nuts. Everyone said so at the wedding. Forde even included it in his toast as best man. Ephraim looked like he was going to die of laughter, but as Kyle kissed her for the second time, pulling the white veil off her pretty face and looking into those intense and studious eyes, he realized that sometimes, insanity was a good thing.


End file.
